The Sacred Band Ch. 06

"But Philip, Churchill was our greatest war leader, wasn't he?"

"Matter of opinion. I'd put Cromwell in first place, followed by Lloyd George, with Pitt the younger third in a photo finish.

"Cromwell? But he was a vile person, consumed with hatred."

Philip roared with laughter and I blushed crimson. I could feel the tide of heat and colour rise up my face.

"See what I mean by knee-jerk toryism?" He chuckled.

The book of rules for girls in love says never to argue with your man-friend. Defer to him prettily, reflect back his opinions and he will think you are intelligent and attractive.

I knew instinctively that this would not wash with Philip. Let him think I was a doormat and he would wipe his feet on me, if he even bothered to do that. I prepared myself for a fight.

I may not know as much history as he did, but I would go down fighting. I could see a point of weakness in his argument and girded up my loins.

It all got put aside for another day as we turned off King Richard Road and into Muriel Road.

"Well here we are," he laughed, "saved by the bell."

First Philip took me into the back parlour and introduced me to his mother. Madge was sitting in an armchair in front of a television, showing a cricket game with the sound turned off.

She was very welcoming; a plump, smiling, grey-haired lady in a flowery pinafore over an ankle-length grey dress. Her hands were deformed by arthritis and her legs and feet were dark, almost black; swollen and painful looking. Although she clearly walked painfully, with two sticks; she seemed serene and quietly content.

Whilst Philip was mashing tea, I learned how proud she was of her talented son.

"I wanted him to stand for Parliament for Labour, and he could have walked it", she explained, "but he had other ideas, and I suppose that's only to be expected. Different generations see things differently miduck. My parents were old-fashioned Liberals, and they couldn't stick the Labour Party, but I had to make up my own mind. So does he".

I replied honestly.

"I don't really understand politics. The differences between what the parties want and believe seems so small that I don't know what it is that arouses such anger."

"That's right", said Philip, entering the room with a tea tray. "Tell the old girl her whole life's work has been wasted; that's the stuff to give her."

I was so shocked that tears stood in my eyes. Had I really been so rude? Then they both roared with laughter, and I realised that they were just teasing me. I gave a sort of watery smile, and Philip put his arms around me and hugged me.

"I'm so sorry, Laura ducks. I never meant to hurt your feelings. It was only in fun."

I hugged him back. Wonderfully, something had happened that broke the ice between us. If he was hugging me in front of his smiling-faced mother, then who knows what he might do when we were alone?

We finished our tea and the three of us chatted desultorily. Then the cricket came to an end and the scene changed to show-jumping. This was more like it! Madge got to her feet, painfully, and hobbled over to turn up the sound on the television. This was our signal to leave.

Philip allowed me to precede him upstairs, so I wiggled my bum a bit. I waited on the landing for him to lead the way.

He took me into a large room at the front of the house, furnished as a lounge with an old but good three-piece suite and a Pye Black Box auto-change record-payer in pride of place with stacks of long-play and extended-play records. He obviously cared about music and wanted to hear it reproduced as well as possible.

We sat together on the settee; his arm draped loosely across my shoulders, and chatted lightly.

"How does it feel to have almost left school? Are you looking forward to going to University?"

"Well, I really can't wait to leave school. I wanted to do History or Psychology at Imperial College, London, but Leicester was my second choice.

Much as I love my parents, I think it will do me good to get away for a bit. In a way I am a bit disappointed to be staying weeknights with Aunt Hilda in Stoneygate, but it will certainly be more comfortable that those rabbit hutches in the Halls of Residence."

In the back of my mind I was thinking that maybe living at Auntie Hilda's might not be so dull after all. It would give me freedom to spend evening – and maybe nights - here, if things worked out.

Philip asked me about tennis, cinema and dancing. Then came the moment I was waiting for.

"What about boyfriends? I'm sure a lovely girl like you must have plenty."

"I don't go out with boys very much. Somehow I don't find boys my own age very attractive, and all the slightly older ones have all been called up."

"Tell me all about the boys you have gone out with."

"Well, there are only three really. Dennis Middleton; I went out with him a couple of times when I was fifteen. Richard Price; we lasted about a month, and Peter Patterson, last winter.

I didn't really like any of them very much, but all my friends were going out with boys and I didn't want to stand out."

"Not the Mata Hari of Ashby then. But you've learned how to kiss."

He drew my face to his, and gave me a long, deep kiss, I opened my mouth to his and his tongue crept into my mouth, Not the wet, slimy sort of kiss, but strong and thrilling, and a little bit fierce.

"Now, tell me all the naughty things you have been up to in the back row of the pictures."

His command was my wish. I described how they had snogged me, how all of them had groped my tits, and how I had let Peter feel me up through my knickers, but how I had run out of the cinema when he tried to put my hand on his knob."

"I was more curious than anything, but when he did that I knew that I didn't want to let him get any further."

"Well, well Miss Fisher. I think you deserve a spanking for each of those innocent boys you led astray, and then you can consider yourself forgiven."

I was right. He was the man. Maybe I should raise the stakes a little...

"But if I deserve spanking for what I did with those three, maybe I had better not tell you about Mr Gillespie."

"Mr. Gillespie?" he queried. "Was he your schoolmaster – what wickedness did you get up to with him?"

"I told you I don't like boys much. The only time I really felt that if a man wanted me he could have me, was with Mr Gillespie at Backus' bookshop. But he wasn't interested in me that way. He's really old – nearer seventy than sixty, and not in the least sexy-looking, but he went out of his way to help me and make friends with me, and somehow I could feel a sort of power coming from him that excited me.

He's a magician – no; not a conjurer who does children's parties, I mean a real, dedicated, lifelong magician.

"What help did he give you that was so important?"

"He helped me to find books. Look, I shall tell you all about it one day soon, but please don't ask me any more about it right now."

"All right my girl. I'll just ask you one thing. If you deserve a spanking for letting boys grope your tits, what do you deserve for nearly seducing an older man?"

"I don't know. A caning maybe?"

"Well, for the moment we'll make do with the spanking. That's four you owe me."

Now the moment had come. For the first time in my life I felt my knickers getting wet. I was so excited I squeaked.

"How do you want me? Shall I take off my clothes?"

"No, certainly not. Naughty girls go over my knee and I take their knickers down and spank their bare bottoms. Naked spankings are for good girls who like to play."

I can't describe the satisfaction I felt as I lay myself across his knees. He lifted the back of my dress and laid it over my back, revealing my bottom, clad in my best primrose yellow knickers. He stroked my bum appreciatively, and I am sure he felt that I was already excited.

He took hold of both sides of my knickers at my hips, and I lifted my tummy off his knees slightly so he could pull them down. He took them right down my thighs to my knees, and I felt them slowly slide to my ankles as I could not stop myself from wriggling.

Could he smell my excitement? I hoped so – I didn't want him to be in any doubt.

He began lightly, a brisk, loud slap on each buttock in turn, that spread a stinging warmth. Then slaps became louder, and I thought what a blessing it was that his mother's television had the sound turned up loud.

He began by slapping each cheek of my bum in turn, then as the intensity built up the pattern changed to three or four slaps on each buttock. That was much fiercer. By the time he stopped my bottom felt as if it were on fire. I had imagined this so many times, and it was a hundred times more wonderful that I ever imagined.

Years earlier, when I was sure I was alone in the house I had tried spanking myself with a table-tennis bat and the riding crop my dad gave me with my hard hat when I went to riding school.

It might work for some people, but for me it just gave a sort of empty feeling, utterly devoid of any thrill, and after a few times I gave up the attempt. Now, here with Philip, it was all thrill.

He stopped. "That's enough for a first time."

I wanted to assure him that I could keep going as long as he could, but decided that he knew what he was doing better than I did. I got off his knees, rubbed my bottom with both hands, making sure he could see my legs and perhaps a little bit more.

Then; nothing ventured, nothing gained; I made sure he watched me as I took my knickers off and put them in my handbag.

We went over and sat on the settee together again.

"Tell me about your girlfriends," I said. "Do you have any on the go at present?"

"Why? Do you want to spank me for my naughty behaviour?"

I was shocked, and for a moment took him quite seriously.

"No, of course not; how could you think that? I couldn't possibly respect someone who let me spank his bottom." I could feel tears in my eyes at the thought.

He was teasing me again. Philip loves to get a rise out of me. He roared with laughter at me, and, just as quickly, took me in his arms again and hugged me. As we kissed a long, deep, thrilling kiss, my body draped over his, his hand lifted the back of my skirt and began to stroke my bum again.

I rolled further over to make it easy for him. After a moment or two, he moved his hand round to my quim, and started to caress me with gentle, knowledgeable fingers. He already knew that I was a virgin, but his probing finger confirmed it. He found my little man in the boat, and his massage sent shivers through me.

"What would you like to do now, Laura?"

"Whatever you want. Do you want to break me in – take my virginity I mean? Or perhaps you would like me to suck your cock – or maybe you could spank me some more?"

"Break you in? What a quaint term. Is that what you horse-riding girls call it?

"It's what all girls my age call it. We talk about it all the time and try to scare each other, but really we are all just waiting for the right man and the right time."

"Suppose I want something else?"

"Do you mean you want to do me up the bum before I've even been poked? That's a bit perverse isn't it, taking a virgin up the bum?"

"Which would you prefer, the perverse Philip or the innocent, unthreatening Philip?

"Oh, the perverse one, of course."

"Right then. Perverse Philip says suck me off, and if you do it well enough I might consider shagging you."

"Yes please, but you'll have to tell me what to do. I've heard girls describing it, but not in much detail."

Philip unbuttoned his slacks, and pulled out his knob. To me it looked enormous, and I wondered if I would be able to suck it to his satisfaction, but I was going to give it a good try.

I took his balls in my left hand and caressed them gently, and then placed my other hand on his staff, just below the head, and moved my hand gently up and down.

As I retracted the foreskin over the broad, purple mushroom head, a bead of clear liquid appeared from the slit. I put out my tongue and licked it up. It was stringy, with the taste and texture of egg-white, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The one worry I had is that the taste of his spunk would be as nasty as some of the other girls had said. I need not have worried...

First though...

"I must just tell you. When I was working in Woolies as a Saturday girl last Christmas I listened to a couple of the girls talking. They were both about my age, but they had been around the block a few times, and they were talking about how three of them went with their boyfriends to one boy's house, and had a gobbling contest.

The boys sat side by side and took their trousers down, then the girls knelt down and gave them the best gobbler they could manage, and the first girl to make her boy spunk was the winner.

A week later they were still arguing about who won! I found that story so sexy. Imagine being watched whilst you did everything you could to bring your boy off with your mouth. It was the most exciting thing I ever heard."

"Do you know Laura, I have never heard a girl talk like you. It's just amazing. If that is what a Girls' Grammar School does for you, everyone should go to one."

"I bet you wish you'd been to one. Anyway, I'm only saying to a man what girls say to each other in private."

After that, under his gentle guidance, my mouth was busy for about ten minutes. Then he said,

"Keep sucking until I've finished coming, or I really will spank you again."

I don't know who came harder, Philip or me. Nothing I had ever heard suggested that a girl could come to orgasm just sucking a man off, but after that it has happened to me more times than I could count.

It made me realise that, for women at least, orgasm is in the head as much, or more, than it is in the body. (Oh dear there's an unintentional pun there, but I'll just leave it in.)

I knelt there, spunk all over my chin where it had dripped from my mouth, feeling prouder and happier than I had ever felt in my life. I looked at Philip and he smiled.

"Well," I asked, smiling up at him. "Which have I earned, the poking or the spanking?"

He smiled back at me, laughter in his beautiful grey eyes.

"You have amply earned your poking my little one. You look so captivating like that. Angel and whore all in one beautiful wrapper".

At Philip's suggestion we went into the bedroom and found (surprise, surprise!) a double bed. We undressed and lat down side by side, kissing long and deeply but without any sense of urgency. Then, when we had caught our breath, I said.

"Now tell me about your girlfriends, I've told you all about my sordid past".

"Well, there's Shelagh, she's a Ward Sister at the Royal Infirmary. She works long hours and gets a lot of unavoidable overtime when they're short-staffed. She hasn't got a place of her own, just the Nurses Hostel, so she comes over here and spends a night when she can, maybe once a fortnight, and every week we get an evening together but she has to be in by ten."

"Do you spank her bottom like you did mine?

"No, she's into straight up and down sex – no frills – but she's a lovely lady and she has a terrific sense of humour. We are laughing and giggling all the time when we're in bed. One day she'll get married and have a horde of kids, but meanwhile I seem to suit her very well."

"And the next one?"

"Magda. Her family come from Poland; she's a musician. Right now she plays viola in the string quartet at the Lyons Corner House in Granby Street, but she's capable of much more than that. She's married but her husband left her and went to Canada. She's been trying to divorce him for desertion for over a year now. She's rather a sad lady really, and I do my best to cheer her up, but she's been really bruised by the break-up of her marriage.

Now and again after a really good shag, she'll just burst into tears and nothing seems to comfort her. It's a bit of an emotional roller coaster. Sometimes we'll spend every evening together for a week, then she'll keep putting me off until I think she's dropped me completely. Then, weeks later she'll ring again."

"Why do you keep on going out with her?"

"She's very sweet, and I think she needs me. She's going to drop me one day, but I'm not going to hand her another rejection. She deserves better than that. You know, I've made her sound far less attractive than she is. She's very warm and affectionate in lots of ways, and I can be very happy with her just cuddling up with me."

"Anyone else?"

Yes, the most important one of all. Denise. She's stunning. Incredibly vibrant and full of life, and tremendously sexy. Laura, are you sure you want to hear all this?"

I could listen unmoved to him talking about Shelagh and Magda, but the change in tone when he started talking about Denise sent a pang of jealousy through me. I covered it up as best I could.

"Yes, I want to know everything about you. You know, Philip, you're such a lovely man, You're full of kindness and you really like women. Somehow I think that a lot of very sexy men really don't like women at all".

"You would have to love women of you had a mum like mine. She's given her whole life to trying to help people, and caring for my Dad and me. When you know there are women like that in every back street in Leicester, and every town in the world I guess..."

"Anyway, tell me about Denise, she sounds terrific."

"She's a widow. Her husband, Walter, met her when he was nearly forty and she was not yet seventeen. He was a really dominant man, and he trained her like a pony. They got married as soon as she was eighteen. Her parents were horrified, and tried everything they could to stop her, but she simply said:

"If you won't let me marry him, then I'll just live with him as his mistress until I am of age. I'm over seventeen and You can't stop me from leaving home."

She adored him, totally and completely, and when he was killed in a riding accident, she was left behind totally bereft. But she pulled herself together. She's so strong and confident and such fun to be with. I met her not long after I got demobbed from the RAF and came back from Hong Kong. I was about twenty-three and she was ten years older.

I became her financial advisor, and when I started up my own business she put up half the money and became a sleeping partner. Up 'til then, I'd had a lot of one-night stands and I thought I knew about sex. She showed me I was wrong and taught me how to give her what she wants and to get what I want."

"Philip, you are going to keep me and teach me all about sex too, aren't you? Please say you will. If this is just a one-night stand it will still have been worth it for me, but I just know that you are my Pasha."

"You what?"

"My Pasha. That's what I call my secret lover. My Pasha is mysterious and powerful. He punishes me or rewards me as he sees fit and my pleasure is in giving him pleasure. I've dreamed about him since I was twelve, and I am sure that it is you. You even talk like him. You know when you said that if I didn't make a good enough job of sucking you off you would spank me? That was it. Just hearing it made me come."

"Laura, you are not only the most beautiful girl I have ever known, but you are without doubt the most exciting. Would you like to meet Denise? She has been telling me recently that it was time I found a girl of my own to train. I'm sure she will love you, and you will love her. I take it you are not demanding that I drop all my other love interests?"

My heart leapt at the thought of him training me. I could not help giggling, but I gave a little bob curtsey, bowed my head and replied with a straight a face as I could manage:

"We concubines don't make demands of our Pasha. As long as we can serve our Pasha and get a share of his love we are content."